When writing ISN’T a lonely profession

Enough with virtual groups. This time a group of authors bands together in real life.

When my husband, author Warren Berger, founded a writers’ group recently (an uncharacteristic move since he’s neither an organizer nor a joiner), I swept into action, offering to do PR and create a website for the group (this was characteristic for me). It’s been a fun activity and we’ve met so many new people interested in all things literary, right in our own backyard here in northern Westchester County. Who knew?

Read the New York Times article, “Writers Create a Haven Away from Home,” about the group.

The thing that makes this group particularly interesting, though, is that they have an actual space for writing and working. It’s in the lower level of a restored Victorian mansion called the Marmaduke House, after a long-ago family that lived there.

So far the large space has been used more for monthly events (including this one where people brought their dogs and read funny/sad essays about pets) than a lot of writing. Most of the 15 members seem to be too busy traveling and promoting their books than to actually write, but still it’s a great clubhouse. I’ll share with you here a recent essay one of the authors, Kate Buford, wrote about her “neighborhood hideout,” for the wonderful literary blog Beyond the Margins.

The Marmaduke Writing Factory by Kate Buford

What ten-year-old doesn’t dream of a neighborhood hideout? A secret place where, back in the day, you and your pals swapped baseball cards and Nancy Drew mysteries or, now, sit around and text each other? And pretend you’re Tom Sawyer’s Gang swearing an oath of loyalty sealed with your names written in blood? Or junior vampires doing worse? And the parents (the real fantasy part) have no idea where you are.

There’s a whiff of that childhood ambiance and ethos in the Marmaduke Writing Factory, a new writers’ group formed last fall in Westchester County, New York. Unlike many other such groups, who meet at the local Starbucks or each other’s homes to share drafts and war stories, Marmaduke has taken professional cooperation to another level. Eleven authors  – Warren Berger, Ben Cheever, Marilyn Johnson, Pat Eisemann Logan, Mary McDonagh Murphy, Frank Prete, Simon Schama, Gary Sledge, Bob Sullivan, Joe Wallace, and I—jointly rent a space in the basement of the historic nineteenth-century Marmaduke Forster building in the lively town of Pleasantville.

It is our grown-up hideout, dedicated to the craft of writing.

The magic starts when you have to descend a flight of stairs — doesn’t every great children’s story have a flight of stairs? — to get to the big, open room that looks like a cave (another Sawyer echo). Westchester County, like Manhattan, is built on rock, so there is a big stony outcropping the builders didn’t bother to dynamite and just worked around. The stone foundation walls are equally craggy, evoking encouraging feelings of timelessness. A fire (ok, it’s gas, but still) invites lively discussion. So do comfy armchairs and a conference table. Individual desks are arranged around the perimeter of the room for real work.  Books by member authors are on display along an old locust log. One window lets in light from the outside world.

That’s the ambiance. Now, the ethos. Writing was recently named by Health Magazine as one of the top ten “professions” most prone to depression. (See Randy Susan Meyers’ December 20 post in this space.)

Why?  Isolation, which breeds loneliness, fear, and agoraphobia.

That’s just the writing part. If you’re lucky, you get published. Then comes the changing-by-the-day challenges (and rewards) of dealing with publishers, publicists, social marketing, speeches, signings – the sudden shock of being in the public arena. Writers have to be wired to endure, even enjoy, solitary effort. Promoting a book is the antithesis of this hermetic state.  Result: schizophrenic stress.

So, maybe it takes a writers’ group to keep a writer sane. Marmaduke was created not only to provide a designated space away from home for writers to write, but also to create a supportive community.  We have barely started, but already there has been much sharing of knowledge, as well as media referrals, advice, and support.  It helps that all of us are published authors, so we meet as more or less equals.  So far, there is a marked level of mutual respect, humor, and generosity.

But, it’s not all about us. Another antidote to depression and isolation in general is to reach out to the greater community. Though it was decided that Marmaduke would not offer writing classes, as some writers’ groups do (e.g. Writer House in Charlottesville, VA ), the idea of offering our expertise to local secondary schools, colleges,  writing centers, and libraries was embraced with enthusiasm. Many of us had already taught as guest teachers in biography, fiction, sports writing, and fantasy.

There are preliminary plans to sponsor writing competitions and to feature the winners on a local cable television show, “About Writing,” hosted by member Ben Cheever. The Jacob Burns Film Center is about a block away and we anticipate doing joint programs with this vibrant independent film theater and media arts center.  (On February 24th, I will be presenting “A Look at Jim Thorpe,” a program of clips from Thorpe’s Hollywood movies.)

Meanwhile, in addition to informal meetings and get-togethers among members, Marmaduke has begun what will be a series of public events featuring members and their work. On December 15, 2010, Robert Sullivan and I, as the members with the newest titles, read and signed books. The New York Times sent a reporter and photographer to cover the launch.

On January 25th, “Historical Fiction: Bringing the Past to Life” featured a panel of Marmaduke members Warren Berger, Joe Wallace, Gary Sledge, plus guest author Esmeralda Santiago, reading short passages from their historical novels as part of a larger discussion moderated by Cheever.

Rounding out our team is the Marmaduke Wine Club, which provides the requisite libation of all literary events since ancient times. The Village Bookstore around the corner is our official bookseller, alternate hideout, and valued partner.

One last start-up question, however, plagued we wordsmiths: how to refer to ourselves? Marmadukes? Marmadukassians? Marmalots (a brand-new warm and fuzzy animal)?

A tentative consensus was reached: Marmadudes. It has a nice Sawyeresque swagger.

*Ben Cheever and Warren Berger founded the Marmaduke Writing Factory. See the Marmaduke website for a full description of their work, as well as that of all the other Marmadudes. In the Marmaduke spirit, I would like to thank Joe Wallace for referring me to Beyond the Margins.